


Tattoos are Forever

by madarama



Series: Different Lives [9]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Hinted Tucker/Sister, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5879146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madarama/pseuds/madarama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just because the first thing your soulmate is gonna see of you is your dick doesn’t mean bad things are gonna happen to the rest of us.”<br/>AU Prompt: Your soulmate tattoo is the words you first hear your soulmate say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoos are Forever

A person’s soulmate tattoo could be a blessing or a curse. When it’s the first words you hear your soulmate speak it’s no wonder it works that way. Some people wake up on their 16th birthday with something beautiful tattooed on them, like ‘You’re an angel’. Some people end up with horribly generic things like ‘Can I take your order?’. Wash’s tattoo, running across his lower back like a tramp stamp says ‘Is that a penis?’. He stopped going shirtless after he turned 16. 

Before his birthday Wash never thought about his soulmate too much, he knew that he’d get his tattoo and then one day he’d hear those words coming from the mouth of the person he was destined to love. Wash didn’t think he’d have to worry that the first thing his soulmate might see of him is his penis. He doesn’t like to think about how he probably ends up flashing his soulmate. Is he drunk? Does he go crazy? For the rest of high school Wash lived with the very real fear of being pantsed. 

That’s not the only thought that kept Wash up at night. From what his soulmate says, they sound confused at the sight of his penis, like they’d never seen one before. Is Wash’s soulmate a goddamn child? It’s incredibly rare to be matched with someone out of your age group but it happens. That’s probably worse case scenario. Wash hopes, that instead, they’re just a horribly sheltered woman who’s never seen male genitalia before. He thinks that one is unlikely. Another possibility is that he’s dressed like a woman for some reason and maybe they see his dick poking out cause he gets a hard on. Wash can’t think of a scenario he’d be in a skirt with no underwear and an erection but that didn’t stop his brain from coming up with the idea. Wash doesn’t even think he could pass for a woman but he’s decided to steer clear of feminine clothes anyways.

Wash can only think of one thing that would stop him from making a fool of himself in front of his soulmate during their fated meeting; his soulmate sees something and makes an offhanded comment about it being a penis. This idea doesn’t help him much when he trips on his sweats on the treadmill at the gym and almost rips them off along with his underwear. Or any other time people he doesn’t know could see his penis. 

Right now Wash is sitting in an Olive Garden slightly paranoid because in his rush not to be late for lunch with his friend Tucker he forgot to put on a belt. Maybe he should learn to keep a goddamn spare in his car. Or wear drawstring sweats for the rest of his life. 

Wash takes a look at the time. He doesn’t know why he’s so worried about being late when Tucker can never make it on time himself. Wash looks up just in time to see Tucker walk up like he’s not almost 30 minutes late. He could have gone back home and gotten his stupid belt in the time Tucker wasn’t there. He gives one wave to show where he is.

“Sup dude.” Tucker greets. 

Wash doesn’t say what’s up with him, instead he gives a hard stare.

“What?” Tucker asks.

“You’re late.” Wash finally says.

“Um yeah? I’m always late. You should just start assuming the meet time is half an hour from what we say it is.” Wash’s face isn’t any less unimpressed.

“Or you could, I don’t know, be on time?”

Tucker opens his mouth just as the waitress comes and takes their order. Tucker orders himself a feast that he’ll never finish per usual and Wash just gets an appetizer salad because he’s had way too many breadsticks in the past half hour. Tucker will probably end up leaving food on the table for Wash anyways because he always ‘tries something new’ and never likes it, forcing Wash to eat it cause they always split the bill and Wash can’t stand wasting money.

“Okay so I’m throwing a party tomorrow night, you gonna come?” Tucker says. Wash knows he’s trying to get off the topic of him being late. Tucker never asks Wash to a party no more than 3 hours in advance. 

“You just had one like 4 days ago.”

“You’re point being?”

“I don’t know why you’re so anxious to meet your soulmate.” Wash says, draining his glass of water.

“Just because the first thing your soulmate is gonna see of you is your dick doesn’t mean bad things are gonna to happen to the rest of us.” Tucker has known about Wash’s tattoo for a few years now. He saw it when Wash bent over to pick something up and his shirt rode up. Wash doesn’t know of a time Tucker laughed harder. He makes sure to crouch down now.

Tucker’s tattoo on the other hand is on the underside of his arm. Wash has known about it since they met because Tucker has no issue with showing his off. He’s not sure why because it literally says ‘Chug chug chug!’. This leads to Tucker chugging things in front of people a lot, usually at parties because he thinks people are more likely to chant that if he’s doing it with a beer. People do stupid things because of their tattoos, like being on edge because they forgot their belt at home. 

“Well I doubt your soulmate will let you keep screwing everything in sight. Or rather try to, it’s not like you get laid.” Wash said, coming back to the conversation.

“Shut up dude are you coming or what?”

“That depends, are you gonna have everyone and their mother attend?”

“How am I gonna get people I don’t know to come if I don’t let my friends bring their friends?” Wash just let out an exasperated sigh. “Come on man please?”

Wash knows Tucker just wants someone to help clean the next day but he still found himself agreeing to go anyways like a sucker. Maybe he was a cleaning masochist.

 

It’s currently 11:46 pm and Wash is sipping slowly on his second beer. Getting plastered is not his idea of a good time. Unlike a certain friend of his who was busy drinking his 5th beer as fast as he could. Watching his friend get alcohol poisoning was also not his idea of a good time. He contemplates leaving when another one of his friends leans against the wall beside him. It’s North, who’s here because South’s here, who’s here because she likes to get drunk at places that aren’t her house so she doesn’t have to worry about trashing the place when she can’t see straight. North doesn’t have anything alcoholic in his hand but rather some weird juice drink Wash sees him with all the time. That means either Tucker keeps it in stock or North had brought some with him, maybe enough to keep himself supplied all night. It’s goopy looking, green, comes in an eco friendly bottle, and tastes like ass. Wash is a bit of a health nut too but it doesn't mean he’s gonna kill himself with the juice equivalent of cyanide. 

“How’s it going?” North asks. Wash looks at his friend’s drink suspiciously, half scared that he’s going to be offered some. North has a tendency to try and mom everyone into a better lifestyle, meaning he wants them to drink his shitty juice and go for runs at five in the morning.

“Meh.” Wash replies when he’s satisfied that North isn’t going to try and force that poison on him.

North nods in understanding and goes quiet for a few seconds. “Want some?” _‘Fuck.’_ Is the first word through Wash’s mind.

“No thanks North.”

“You sure?” From seemingly out of nowhere North produces another bottle. _‘Are his pockets really that big?’_ Wash thinks as he feels stared down by a bottle of liquid that’s probably not even approved by the FDA due to it ruining people’s lives because of their friends shoving it down their throat at any given opportunity. Wash may be overreacting but it’s only because the juice is shit. Wash narrows his eyes at the offending drink. Maybe it has cocaine in it? That’s the only thing he can think of for why North is so addicted to the stuff.

“Yeah I’m sure. I got a drink already.” Wash says, holding up his beer. 

“Suit yourself.” North pockets the juice into his jacket, confirming to Wash that his pockets really are that big.

Wash is eyeing up a bag of unopened chips that Tucker has on his counter when a hand grabs his arm. It’s Tucker who has a big goofy grin on his face, showing all his pearly whites. He must have had more drinks than Wash saw him down because he’s looking pretty wobbly. 

“Wash!” Tucker yells over his music that’s not even loud enough to warrant yelling, he’s just drunk. Despite this no one actually looks their way, probably used to Tucker shouting all the time when he’s had a few.

“Yeah Tucker?” Wash says.

Somehow Tucker grins wider. “Listen I have the best plan _ever_.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! You can help me find my soulmate!” 

Wash raises an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to do that?” 

“So you know how it’s the first words you hear your soulmate say? If we’re both chugging our drinks, like.... like a competition, maybe people will be interested and cheer us on or something! The words don’t have to be directed at me.”

“You know Tucker you don’t have to do stuff intentionally to find your soulmate. Just live life and it’ll happen, that’s how this is supposed to work right?” Wash has told this to him before, he’s just hoping maybe Tucker will stop trying to rope him into his _best plan ever_. 

“Says the guy who goes out of his way not to show his dick all the time. If it’s supposed to be what makes you find your soulmate then it’s just gonna happen and you can’t avoid it. I can’t believe you’re not running around with your junk flopping everywhere all the time.”

“He’s got a point.” North interjects.

Wash sends a glare to North for agreeing with Tucker. “Well unlike some people I’d rather not meet my soulmate making a fool of myself, or you know, sexually harassing everyone in sight.” Wash argues.

Tucker tugs on Wash’s arm. “Please?” Tucker tries.

“No.”

“If you do this for me you don’t have to help me clean tomorrow.” Tucker nudges him like he’s making him some incredible offer.

“Or I could just not help you at all tomorrow.”

Tucker waves an arm “Pft, you say that all the time. You can’t stand watching me clean, all sad, alone, hungover.”

“How do I know you’re not just gonna do that anyways!”

“Cause’ I promise I won’t.” Wash just rolls his eyes. He’s heard that before. When Tucker sees that didn’t work he turns on the puppy dog eyes. “I just wanna find the love of my life.”

“Oh my god” Wash groans “And me ending up in a puddle of my own puke will help?”

“No, everything that comes before that will help.”

Wash stares down at Tucker. He can’t believe he’s actually considering this. He makes the mistake of looking into Tucker’s big blue puppy eyes. _‘Fuck.’_ Wash thinks for the second time in 5 minutes. “Ugh fine let’s go” Tucker fist pumps and then grabs Wash’s arm.

“Have fun! Ask me for a ride if I’m still here when you need one.” North says before Wash is dragged away. Knowing Tucker he’ll probably just end up passing out somewhere instead of getting of home.

Wash ignores the regret bubbling in his stomach. It’s not like it matters, it’s gonna be replaced with beer pretty soon.

 

The first thing Wash sees when he opens his eyes in probably hours is a brunet man standing over him. He takes note of how he’s comfy meaning at least he made it to the couch last night. Not that he actually remembers. When you’re so drunk you’re night becomes a slideshow instead of a movie you tend to lose some slides. The next thing Wash notices is the brunet above him is very _very_ good looking though the thought doesn’t last long because he’s trying not to puke on the guys shoes. Or rather, shoe. The man is only wearing one shoe. Well he’s better off than Wash, who’s got none on. 

He looks the guy in the eyes, who’s busy looking at Wash’s face. Wash’s brow furrows under the scrutiny of the other man.

“Is that a penis?” he asks. Suddenly Wash feels very offended.

“No it’s a Wash.” Now the man looks confused.

“What?” The guy says. It takes Wash more than a second to realize that he didn’t structure his words right. 

“I mean I’m Wash, not a-” Sudden realization hits him “Wait what did you say?”

The man blinks. “I said ‘Is that a penis’.” He repeats, face shocked.

Wash knows that he doesn’t drink enough to be getting heart palpitations from the alcohol which means it’s probably coming from the fact that this man just said the words tattooed on his back. Wash doesn’t say anything else, he just gets up as fast as his hungover body will allow, completely forgetting he was about to puke half a minute ago. He turns around and lifts his shirt just enough to show his soulmate tattoo.

“Holy shit.” Wash hears. He turns back around as the guy is yanking up his sleeve. Tattooed on his bicep is ‘No it’s a Wash.’. 

“Holy shit.” Wash echos. Next thing he knows they’re both doubled over laughing because of their stupid as fuck tattoos. 

“Oh my god man I am so sorry I feel like it’s my fault.” The man gets out between laughs.

“It’s okay yours is pretty bad too. It doesn’t even make sense!” With those words Wash feels his stomach churn horribly. Now he remembers he was gonna puke. “Just a sec please.” Wash manages to get out as he stumbles to the bathroom that's thankfully not to far away. 

Once he’s done throwing up his guts into Tucker’s toilet he rinses his mouth with the mouthwash on his sink. He really doesn’t want his soulmate to smell his post-drinking puke breath. He tries to make himself as presentable as possible in front of the mirror when he sees it. There’s a crudely drawn sharpie penis on his forehead. With a groan he sets to try and scrub it off but only ends up with red skin and a faded penis instead. 

Wash comes out to see the brunet fixing his hair in his phone’s front camera. Suddenly Wash feels a little less nervous despite the dick graffiti on his face.

Wash clears his throat and the man puts his phone in his pocket in a hurry. He walks up and sticks his hand out to Wash. “I’m York.”

Wash puts his hand in his soulmate’s. “I’m Wash, but I think you got that.”

York nods with a smile. _‘Oh god he’s gorgeous’_ Wash thinks. He’s always hears that everyone is always instantly attracted to their soulmate when they meet them but he always thought is was a load of crap; he’s not so sure now. 

“I see you managed to get some of the penis off your forehead.” York says, pointing to the offending mark on his forehead.

“Yeah well if you figure out who did this let me know so I can thank them for letting me meet my soulmate.” Wash says with a grin back.

“Well I think I saw a short fat dude and a tall skinny dude hunched over you giggling at one point.” York mentions

Grif and Simmons. Nevermind he’s just gonna kill them for touching Wash while he was passed out.

After a moment of silence York starts to chuckle again, looking down at the one shoe between the two of them.

“What’s so funny now?” Wash asks.

“I just didn’t expect to meet my soulmate at a party my friend dragged me to.”

Honestly Wash didn’t either. It never occurred to him that his tattoo words could be directed at him and not be referring to his actual penis. This also wasn’t the first time Grif and Simmons had drawn dicks on him while he was sleeping. 

“Which friend is that?” Wash asked, curious if he knows them. If York wasn’t a friend of Tucker’s then York’s friend must be.

“Her name’s Carolina, we work together.”

Wash’s eyebrows went up. “You’re a firefighter?” Wash is already picturing York on one of those sexy firefighter calendars. 

So the guy fate paired him up with is amazingly good looking and saves people from burning buildings? He can’t be too much of an asshole if he is at all cause he’s friends with Carolina. Next thing he’s gonna tell Wash is he has a PHD in theoretical physics but became a firefighter because he wanted to save lives. Wash really wants to know why his soulmate is someone so out of his league.

“Yep. You know ‘Lina?” York asks.

“Yeah. We’ve been friends since high school.”

The conversation drops off again as York and Wash look around the trashed room. Wash doesn’t see anybody, not even Tucker who doesn’t seem to be in his bedroom either cause the door is wide open.

“You know where Tucker is?” Wash asked.

“The black guy with the dreads?” Before Wash can answer York says “Were you the guy having the drinking contest with him?”

“Uh, yes to both.” York starts laughing again.

“Dude you went hard!”

“I don’t normally do that.” Wash confesses, just a little embarrassed. “So did you see him leave?”

“Yeah with some brunette chick, she was wearing this bright yellow shirt. I think it was right after you guys did another round of drinks It was crazy! everyone was watching and yelling shit!”

Wash blinks. “Where they yelling for us to chug?”

“Uh yeah why?” 

Wash’s eyebrows go up “Either he left his own apartment to have sex with some random woman, which he never does, or he left to be somewhere private with his soulmate.”

“His tattoo says chug?” York questions in disbelief

“Sure does.”

York shakes his head. “Man we got some weird ass tattoos.” York looks to the door “You wanna get out of here? Get some breakfast?”

“I’d love to but…” Wash points to his forehead with the faint dick still on it.

“Um, it’s not that bad.” York tries. 

“Dude I’ve seen it.”

“Okay okay we’ll stop by ‘Lina’s and see if she has an makeup that’ll cover that up.”

Wash feels an uncontrollable smile spread across his lips. “Sounds good.” Wash grabs Tucker’s keys. If he wanted to get back into his place he can hunt down Wash for them. Better than someone breaking in.

“At least you didn’t see my penis first thing.” Wash says out of the blue as he locks the door.

“What?” York replies, his confusion obvious.

“I- nevermind.” Wash feels his face get warm.

“No dude I wanna hear.”

Wash looks at York’s bright handsome face, the face of someone who genuinely wants to get to know him and listen to his dumb penis story. Wash wonders why he was ever worried about his tattoo in the first place.


End file.
